


A Sacrifice for Friendship (A Gain for Something More)

by AngeNoir



Series: Yuletide 2013 Gifts [2]
Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Implied Sexual Content, Period-Typical Sexism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 21:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"Poor lad! A big man-creature like him, needing protection! Oh, I can't turn my back on him. Tell him I'll do it. A sacrifice for friendship - what's more appropriate at Midwinter?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>In her defense, Buri had no idea how bad Raoul's family could really be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sacrifice for Friendship (A Gain for Something More)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alyoraShadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyoraShadow/gifts).



> I hope you don't mind the story; I've actually had this headcanon of what happened at Raoul's family dinner for a while now.

“No really, thank you.”

Buri hummed under her breath.

Raoul paused outside the door to his relative’s house – their horses had already been taken and stabled, and here they were, literally upon the doorstep. Buri raised an eyebrow at him.

“You may not understand, but I swear to you that this is the largest favor you could bestow upon me and whatever you hear tonight realize that there is a reason I stay away from formal functions as if my life depended upon it.”

“Raoul, I’m sure you’re exaggerating, and even if you’re not, I’ve had a long time to practice handling all manners of courtiers. I’m sure I can handle it.”

 

* * *

 

She was ruing those words now, seated amongst Raoul’s family. Raoul, doing his very best impression of a block of stone, answered in monotone his various female relatives’ inquiries.

_So is this who you’ve managed to con into taking you? Leading her on so is simply horrible. You know she isn’t an eligible match._

_The King’s newest laws are far too progressive to be sustainable. This realm is heading towards disaster, mark my words, and you won’t even use your status to secure trading rights. Trying to starve us. Such an undutiful son._

_Such an exotic name – are you Yamani? Oh – K’miri. Mmm._

_Barely ever see you, and look what you’re dressed in! You must never touch your money – how will you ever be a good representative of the family name if you do not take care of your appearance? You must shame your father so._

_This is what happens when you don’t marry quickly, you get stuck with someone disreputable. You live to shame the family, don’t you?_

The last one had Raoul coming alive, eyes blazing, but Buri had carefully put her hand on his arm, steadying him. From what she had gathered – and she didn’t have a family like this, large and extended and so conservative that it seemed to physically pain them to speak about the King’s new laws – whatever he said would only rile them up, not change their mind. It wasn’t worth it, not when the goal of the evening was to make nice with his family and leave. She had heard the same and worse from courtiers around the queen. Thayet looked Tortallan; Buri did not. She was obviously foreign and often people took that and her gender and tried to tear her down.

That didn’t mean that Raoul liked it. He vibrated in his seat, growing more and more tense with each additional criticism. It seemed as if his entire family had expected him to do more with his life, criticizing him for his position and his laziness, his unwillingness to do justice to his title and provide for heirs.

And then that dragon of a great-aunt, who Buri was dangerously close to simply flipping the platter into her lap, loudly proclaimed, “Make sure that common, baseborn chit has enough money for a pregnancy charm, honestly, traversing the progress and sleeping in your tent. Though even she’d be a better match than a foreigner.”

Raoul shoved away from the table and stood. The entire table fell silent as he stood there, shoulders squared and teeth bared. Buri had to admit, he looked very fierce and she felt her heart swell warmly.

“Great-aunt, Father, I understand you are both unhappy with my avoidance of family gatherings. Whether this particularly vitriolic gathering is in punishment or because of your age, I care not. Thank you for the meal. We will be leaving now.”

Buri watched him stalk out of the room and quietly rose. She waited, until everyone’s eyes focused on her, and then smiled wolfishly.

“Your son,” she said quietly, and with cold conviction, “is by far one of the most chivalrous knights I have had pleasure to meet. I would say that he does credit to his family, only I do not feel as if you have any claim to him, or his training. He has become his own man, and I thank the gods for that. You do not deserve him.”

With that, she followed Raoul out and into the cold. Predictably, he was in the stables, saddling his horse. She leaned against the stall and stared at his broad back and jerky movements.

After a moment, he said softly, “I apologize, Buri. My family has driven me to drink more than once, and that was when they were on good behavior. If I had known – how bad they really would be tonight, I would not have invited anyone along. You did not deserve that.”

“Neither did you, and I would endure worse for a good friend,” she replied tartly. “Raoul, your family will hardly be the first or the last to tell me what they think of my roots. Thayet may be accepted because of her fair skin and regal manners, but I have always been a stablehand and a bodyguard first, and my rough manners show. I was prepared – I still am prepared, really – to last out the night, no matter what your family said. Family, Midwinter – they go together. Especially because I know you hide with the King’s Own and rarely, if ever, do anything related to your title. Neglecting your duties as a landholding noble is no way to live.”

His shoulders snapped tight, and he whipped around to face her – and paused at her mischievous face.

“ _But_ ,” she said with relish, “you should have seen their faces when you stalked out in all your righteous fury. You’re sweet, Raoul. I didn’t need protecting. Neither did Kel, though I think she, like I, will thank you for thinking of us. Now, it’s ridiculously early. Shall we find somewhere else to eat dinner? I doubt you tasted anything of what you ate.”

Raoul slowly shook his head in confusion. “I don’t understand how you can just – just brush off what they said,” he seethed. “They had no right—”

“You discredit a woman in a few simple and vicious ways, Raoul,” Buri said easily, moving away from his stall and moving to her horse, saddling her mare with ease. “The first is to claim that her success is because she was gifted the position by a lover who wanted to make his mistress happy. The second is to claim that she is unnatural, and that the gods will not tolerate such perversion. The third is to insinuate that she is irrational and emotional and will respond hysterically to everything. And the fourth is to imply that she has no desire for men, and is therefore damaged in some way. If there are any other ways, I have yet to have those attacks leveled at me, thank the gods, but I have heard those four and many variations of them over and over again. As head of the Queen’s Riders, I’ve been accused of everything it is possible to be accused of, in polite and impolite company both. Being with family is important, and whether they had the right or not, I can handle it. Words are just that – words. As vicious or loving as they can be, I only need worry when words goad people into action.” With her horse ready, she nodded at Raoul’s horse, who whickered and shook his mane. “Shall we leave?”

“By the gods, you’re amazing,” Raoul whispered.

She stared at him a moment, at the red that peaked in his cheeks and his flustered movements as he mounted up. It took her a beat to follow his actions, riding out with him back to the palace. As they rode, in silence, she thought long and hard about his words. About how he had chosen her. About their many interactions over the years – Raoul had known her since she had come with Thayet, since she had been a hotheaded youngster willing and determined to prove herself.

When they arrived at the palace and brushed their horses clean, she put a hand on Raoul’s arm before he moved to leave. “You know, you owe me,” she began.

He blinked at her a moment before a flush – of shame, she thought – appeared in his cheeks. “Ah. Well. What—”

“I would like to come back with you to your quarters. It is early still, with everyone still at their celebrations, and I would be going to cold and empty quarters otherwise. We can talk.” She paused deliberately, and shrugged one shoulder in a carefully casual manner. “Or find other activities to occupy our time.”

It took him a moment of staring before he blinked and made an expansive motion. “Ah, yes, of course, you’re welcome to come up – are you sure?”

She grinned at him and tilted her head. “We can argue philosophers into the morning, how’s that? Ring in Midwinter our own way.”

Hours later found them laughing and talking in his quarters, a plate of cheese and fruit set on the side as Raoul argued passionately his defense and she parried. And they didn’t drink – Raoul hated it, and she wondered why she never noticed before how his drinking had coincided with his family gatherings, and how surly it made him back then – but they were loose and easy with one another. Easy enough that she realized he’d never make the first move, especially if he was worried about her reputation.

Rolling her eyes, she stood up from her chair and moved over to where he was sitting. His words stopped in his throat, and he watched her with bright, wide eyes, gaze full of awe. With a soft chuckle, she gripped his chin lightly and pressed a kiss to his lips.

When she pulled back, he croaked, “I don’t want – this isn’t pity.”

“It isn’t pity,” she confirmed fondly. “It isn’t because I think I owe you. It isn’t for anything except because you, Raoul of Goldenlake, are a good friend and a kind man, and I would be greatly pleased if you took me to your bed tonight.”

He stared at her a moment more before standing, and she felt a rush of anticipation as he swept her up in his arms, her legs automatically going to his hips, and he kissed her back, strong and sure and more than a little amazed.

This man, she thought fondly, as he stumbled and apologized his way to his bed, blowing out the candles as they left the main room and nearly tripping while doing so. This man was who she chose.

And not once did she regret her choice.


End file.
